Sold! To The Sexy Red-Head! (An MCR Fan-Fiction/Slave Romance)

To The Point of No Return

-Bonnie-

I took a deep breath. Again and again, until I understood what I had done, and what I had gotten myself into.

Running away isn’t easy. Especially when it’s from the hospital. You’ve got nurses asking “What room are you looking for, hon?” and doctors going, “Get back to your ward, kid.” Luckily, busy workers don’t give a shit about little girls who are supposedly looking for the cafeteria.

Currently, I’m taking residence at the coffeehouse near the house. Not the Starbucks. Too risky. I sat there at a table, looking at the phone they had given me. Surely I could text Gerard? He seemed the least quick to judge. Most times, at least.

Then again, what if someone else picked up? What if Frank was there and saw that it was me who he was talking to?

What if he demanded I get my ass back there and then beat me? He wouldn’t beat a mute, already broken child would he?

Oh come on, Bonnie, you and I both know he would. They all would.

I sighed and put my phone back in my pocket.

“I’m sorry, but can we sit here, with you? All the other tables are taken,” a voice said. I raised my gaze to the two men standing there with coffees and friendly smiles. I nodded a bit,

 “Whoah, your arm’s broken-“

“Fractured,” I mouthed, forgetting my speech impairment.

“And your leg!” They both looked closely at my injuries, taking their seats. I exhaled out of my nose, and grimaced as one of them poked the gauze on my arm.

“Where are your parents, kid?” The man with brown, slightly slicked back hair and glasses asked.

I opened my mouth to talk but shut it again.

“Cat got your tongue?” The other guy, with blue eyes and brown hair similar to the first man’s asked.

“I’m Brendon, by the way, and this is Spencer.” The first guy, Brendon, said.

Spencer waved slightly and I nodded at them. “How old are ya, kid?”

I held up ten fingers, then balled up my hands and flashed another five, like a kindergartner might.

“15, huh? And you can’t talk?”

Mute, I mouthed at the two. Brendon frowned and Spencer nodded a bit in understanding.

“Where’re your parents?” Brendon asked.

“Dude, she just told you she’s mute. How is she supposed to explain?” Spencer gave Brendon a look. He grabbed a napkin from the holder on their table, and a sharpie out of his pocket. He handed them to me.

I took them and looked at the uncapped marker, not knowing what to say.

 First of all, how do I know I can trust you guys? I’m Bonnie, by the way.  I wrote.

Brendon smirked, “Good point. We may just be pedophiles, harboring your secrets to use against you.”

Spencer turned to him and smacked him on the head. “You’re not helping.”

Tell me something about you, and I’ll tell you something about me. I scribbled down. They took a look at it and Spencer shrugged.

“We’re in a band called Panic at the Disco,” Spencer offered. Brendon nodded and grinned.

My eyes lit up. If they were celebrities in a band, then they surely knew about the whole “child-auction” thing.

Do you guys know what the ‘auctions’ are?

Brendon looked at it and grimaced. He grunted in acknowledgement. “Is that what happened to you?” he asked, slightly revolted. Apparently, he didn’t like the thought of it. Smart man.

Yep. And, well, I’m not exactly on the best terms with them. I need to call someone, but I can’t talk. Obviously. Do you mind doing it for me? I slid the napkin across to them, and looked up hopefully. Spencer turned to Brendon and they nodded at each other before turning back to me.

“Hand me your phone, kid,” Spencer said, reaching out his hand.

Call Gerard and tell him I’m in this coffee-shop, but not to tell anyone.

I put my phone in his palm. “Gerard, eh?” he said absentmindedly, scrolling through the contacts.

“Like Way?” Brendon asked, raising an eyebrow. I nodded. “Huh. Didn’t think he would be the slave-owner type.”

I furrowed my eyebrows at this before remembering he’s actually a really nice guy. Hell he’s the nicest out of all them. It was just Frank fucking with his mind and telling him to be pitiless with me.

Spencer looked at me, “You sure about this?” I nodded, and his finger pressed the call button.

I heard a ring go through and a voice on the other line. Bonnie? Bonnie, is that you? Gerard’s voice seemed urgent and exhausted.

“No, this is Spencer. Spencer Smith? Bonnie’s here with me. She says to tell you that she’s here in that little coffee shop by the hospital, but not to tell anyone.”

Oh, shit. Tell her to come home, please? There’s no one here currently.

I heard everything he was saying and when Spencer looked at me, I gestured to my broken foot and arm.

“In case you don’t remember, she’s broken her leg and fractured her arm. She can’t really walk.”

Fuck, He muttered. Okay, uhm, I’m injured too, so I can’t really come pick her up alone.

Spencer looked to Brendon who held up car keys. “It’s okay, we’ll drop her off.”

Oh thank you so much, man. I really owe you one.

Spencer hung up and looked to me. “You’re alright with this?” He pointed to their keys. I nodded, it’s not like I had any other choice if I didn’t want to be homeless.

“Can I ask why you just want to see Gerard and not anyone else?” Brendon asked tentatively. He’d probably noticed it was a sore subject.

I sighed for a moment and sat with the uncapped sharpie between my fingers. I looked back down at the napkin.

I paused for a moment before writing, To be honest, he’s the only one I feel safe around. But don’t worry about it too much, please.

They just nodded silently after reading it and picked up their coffees. “C’mon,” Brendon said, handing me my crutches. I took them graciously and nodded at him.

During the car ride, I remained completely silent—not like I had a choice—and listened to them converse light-heartedly. I had to write down the address on a napkin once again for Brendon to find the house.

Once he pulled up to it, the glanced back at me in the backseat. “You gonna be alright, kid?”

I shrugged and nodded. They took that as a probably. “Just in case, lemme put our numbers into your phone and you can text us when you need to,” Spencer offered. I nodded again, and handed them my iPhone. They quickly input their contacts, and handed my phone back. Spencer got out of the car and helped me with my crutches. Once I was able to walk on them, he got back in the car.

“Bye Bonnie!” They waved off. “Stay safe!” I waved at them slightly, and started stumbling to the door. Once I got there I debated whether or not I actually wanted to do this. There really was no turning back now. I sighed and rung the doorbell.